Page 25 of Unexpected Pickle
I head for her, cursing my luck.
I wanted to catch her before we came to the mixer, so I wouldn’t surprise her in front of her peers. Explain myself.
But the front desk wouldn’t tell me her room number. They let me ring it, but she didn’t answer.
Texting Max had no impact because even though he might be one of my best buds and tipped me off to the retreat, he’s not coughing up her private phone number unless she gives it to me herself.
So I had to hope for the best.
And that’s definitely not happening.
“Jeannie?”
Someone clears their throat, and I quickly amend it to “Chef Young?” There seems to be an unspoken rule that we speak formally with each other here.
She frowns at me. That’s not good. “Hex? Are you here as a…chef?”
“I specialize in crepes, remember?”
She glances around. “What are you doing?”
“Learning sports nutrition.”
She leans closer, and I get a whiff of soap and shampoo. Sniffing her would be creepy, right? Right. Yes. Don’t.
“You realize we have to prepare it, right?” she whispers. “Not just eat it.”
I chuckle. I love this. We stand close, not at a new-acquaintance distance. The others have noticed. Good. It will scare them off. “Is that why they’re calling me Chef Hex?”
“Hex!” She says it through gritted teeth. “Is this because I wouldn’t eat with you after class?”
Is it time for a pronouncement? I didn’t think this through. She was bound to ask why I showed up here. I should have prepared an answer. But I’m not like her. I jump in and figure things out as I go. Always have.
I lean in. “My nutritionist quit, remember? And you told me Gems for Gyms was questionable. So I figured where better to learn than with the best?”
She pulls away, standing straight. “I see. Did you know I would be here?”
“Of course. Max told me about this retreat and that you were coming. I thought, cool, I’ll be in good hands if Jeannie’s there. No one will laugh at me.”
Her gaze slides down my charcoal suit and the open collar of my white shirt. “I doubt anybody laughs at you.”
Chef Moreau approaches. “You must be our other beach bum,” he says, his French accent pretty damn sexy, even man to man.
I watch to see if Jeannie is affected. It would be just my luck to finally get real face time with her, only to see her fall for some random chef’s charm.
Her gaze flits up to him. He’s tall, almost on par with me, and a lean figure in a red shirt, black vest, and tailored pants. Yeah, he’s got money. He’s a chef. Damn it.
Come on, Jeannie, don’t fall for the French guy. It’s a cliche.
“How did you know Hex and I are both from California?” she asks.
“The tans,” Moreau says with a laugh. “And you two seem…familiar.”
I want to bash his face, but I am glad he noticed. “Jeannie and I have had many conversations about the quality of sports nutrition establishments in Los Angeles.Manyconversations. It’s a city full of clients for specialized meal plans.” I sip my champagne, then grimace. I should not be drinking with big matches coming up.
“Smart,” Moreau says, looking between us. “So is there a previous, ah,relationship?”
Jeanie’s gaze snaps to mine. “Of course not. He’s friends with my boss.”
